Addiction

So, maybe you read over my bipolar panacea (NAC) and know it’s not for you.

Maybe you even actually took it and didn’t have the same results. To that, I say: A.) I’m so sorry. I wish I could offer the feeling of “finally normal” to everyone I know and who I don’t know too and B.) No worries… because there’s more. (There’s always more.) Our next stop on the bipolar train includes some other tried and trues that have worked for me for a very long time.  Interestingly enough, some of the same things I’ve used to uplift me also have served to bring me out of mania. The only issue? A lot of them end up making me sleepy. For me, that’s not a massive problem. My toughest times typically come later in the afternoon/evening when all the distractions of the day have dissipated. When all I’m left with are my thoughts. Around then, I don’t mind powering down altogether. Although it’s been nice remaining sane and functional with NAC 24 hours a day (I know, I know – I’ll shut up eventually about it), there was a time when I didn’t have that option. It was either stay awake in anxiety or hit the cognitive kill switch for the day and avoid too much stimulation.

(My tea cup plus a cozy candle = power down power duo. #CanYouEvenCallThatMonsterACup)

So, yes, I reached for sleepy time herbals.

You can actually find a ton of them on my sister sleep site. Kava was amongst the first of them. My fave? The Yogi tea brand. (I tend to stick with them and Tulsi. They’re just a cut above the competition – both in quality and tea-types that they offer.) I’d steep a bag or two for an extended period and then get lost in the warm cup of cuddles it offered. Holy Basil’s Tulsi tea is another one I loved. The problem? I’ve always been a blend type of a gal (with both my wines and my teas), so I can’t tell you which one is more effective anymore. I always plop a bag of each into my mug when I make this stuff. The result? Phenomenal deliciousness. Kava on its own is already infused with cinnamon and cardamom aromas you’ll float away on. But the added rose flavored Holy Basil by Tulsi, adds a floral kick to it that offers an extra complextiy – a tea cuvee, if you will.

And how does it make you feel? Well, like I said, I steep mine for far too long, so I end up with a crazy strong mix that convinces me life is alright for a while. Everything begins to feel warm. Comforting. Cozy. The busy-ness of your brain slowly starts to dim down like a coruscating fluorescent light transforming into an amber lantern. You can still interact just fine. You can still process information. It’s just that you’re at a lower vibration with higher spirits – if that makes sense. So you may not be much of a conversationalist. When I take this stuff, I enjoy watching some dumb show, huddled in a nice fleece. I won’t necessarily zonk out sitting up. But if I lay down, it is indeed game over.

(Especially if I have this lil nugget by my side…)

One con to this? Kava can affect the liver adversely if taken daily, so be mindful.

Also… when I make my tea this strong, I’m usually in my home, prepping for bed. However, several months ago, I was enjoying this at my then boyfriend’s place before going home for the night. We’d had a couple cups of my special blend while watching some mind bending “Infinity” documentary. (I know – worst thing for your brain if you get anxious after sunset – but I had company.) Anyway, I drank my final cup of tea up until I left, enjoying the glow in imparted on my aura. It was just tea, so I didn’t think twice about driving home. I’d never driven anywhere post tea binge, though. Spoiler alert: I was gonna learn today. I’ll say this: two cups of of my (very strong, mind you) Kava Holy Basil tea mix impaired me more than wine ever has. So, just keep that in mind – and maybe save it for nights in.

Already tried Kava and Holy Basil? Tea not your cup of tea?

Maybe you’ll be into this delicious chewable..

I started using L-theanine back in 2018 and, yes, it day-safe. Learn more here.

NAC has been a lifesaver thus far for me.

My moods are more even. My obsessions are fewer. My outlook’s more realistic. (I’d say optimistic just because I tended to lean more depressive than manic so it is for me….) But, as with everything, it’s not without its cons. Like how – now that I’m not perpetually panicked about everything – I’m a little too relaxed about some things. For example, I used to rely on my anxiety to get everywhere on time. Never had to watch the clock because I’d just angst my way through my morning routine. Now that I’m calmer, I have to double check the clock to ensure I’m out at the right hour to make it to work, training, or any other commitments. I still arrive on time, but I just find myself having to check in because my internal anxiety voice (which sounds a lot like my mom giving me five minute interval countdowns back in high school) has fallen silent. (Not to wax back into the pro side, but I will say I not only make it on time, but I’m now actually earlier because I’m not obsessing over my hair or makeup anymore, which typically makes me late for dates with friends.) So, that’s one thing I have noticed.

It’s not so bad that I don’t care about making it on time.

I still care. I’m just a bit more… relaxed.

(“Well, Susan, you could always fire your top earner for being five minutes late one time in her career…”)

Similarly, that carries over into my workouts.

That anxiety and guilt about not doing enough used to fuel my crazy, obsession based workouts. “I’m not getting off this treadmill until I’ve burned exactly 500 calories!” was my old panic voice. Now, this weird (and initially unwelcome) voice of reason has come in, telling me that might be a bad idea, seeing as I had promised myself some strength training and Muay Thai later and that overdoing it may trigger an episode. So, I stop at an hour or half hour instead of my wild two. Again, it’s a con if you think you’ll miss your insane workouts. But, love those though I did, they were coming from a void as well. Now, I just balance. And my weight hasn’t changed – because the obsession to binge eat is gone too.

Then, as mentioned on the last page: alcohol. If you look forward to going out and throwing a few back, you may notice that you don’t enjoy it as much anymore. That took me a second to appreciate, mostly because I wasn’t expecting it and I ordered an uber to this fancy azz party two weekends ago where everyone was absolutely sloshed and having a blast. Cut to me, being boring, sober, and wondering who TF I even am anymore. It was like I was both disappointed and not. Why? Because the feeling I’d been seeking so long via alcohol (which alcohol never actually provided), I was now just feeling all the time. Again, I’ll keep drinking wine til the day I die. But, now, I’m happy with the limit they suggest instead of ending the night saying or doing dumb things I regret. Is it a con to enjoy alcohol less and life more? Maybe for some.

So I list it.

 

Finally, the NAC journey comes full circle to the man that precipitated it.

No, I don’t mean getting back together. I mean our former relationship and all the ghosts that come with that. Part of my worry about taking anything chemically altering, OTC or pharmaceutical, was the fear of regret. Once Neo saw reality, did he feel shame for how the fake world made him act? (No really, I don’t remember; it’s been ages since I watched part 1…) Stepping off that cliff was difficult. But, once I did, something interesting happened. Yes, I felt an initial cringe that my imbalance had led to this hyperfocused nonreality that affected everyone – not just him – around me. That said, the subsequent thought of, “I ruined our relationship and I wish I’d taken this earlier because we’d be happy together” never came.

Instead, I mentally rewound the tape to all the red flags I’d seen/ignored early on. (Not saying I was perfect; we have a multi part article outlining why I’m not.) And I thought about why I stayed when I saw all those things. Back then, I was insecure and unhappy. Being with him filled that void. I had said I was happy before we met – but I was only as happy as I’d ever been with bipolar (undiagnosed at the time). I didn’t know what it felt like to feel really secure. Didn’t even realize I had a problem. Now, through a new filter of vision, I realize that – had I felt like this back then – I may have ended things before they really took off. I feel secure enough now to establish and enforce boundaries. I feel secure enough to call out love bombing. I say things as they are. I just told a very attractive friend-zoned friend the other day that he’s very handsome and perfect on paper but I feel nothing for him, so I’d like him to respect that. Why didn’t I do that before? Because women (won’t admit it – they’ll just say “they want to be nice” but they) secretly like feeling as if they’re being chased when they’re insecure at their core. They need that validation. I don’t anymore. I feel a constant current of self affirmation as I am, without exernal back pats.

Amazing that the lack of that until now has always come from an imbalance.

Lack of confidence. Of eye contact. Of presence. All solved by a capsule.

It’s so strange that most people have lived in this mentality their whole life and I’m just getting here. It feels like I’ve been an alien in a human husk this whole time, trying to fit in. (Cue the Elon and Zuck memes.) And it makes me sad I’ve gone nearly four decades not knowing how to live in my own skin. Sure, I’m a little sore about needing to take something every day to maintain it. However, I try to reframe it to something more realistic. Nobody says you’re weak when you need insulin to survive. Nobody says you’re weak if you need an inhaler to breathe. Likewise, nobody should ever call you weak because you have to take something to regulate an actual imbalance, restore health to your interpersonal relationships, improve the quality of your hobbies, passions, and – most of all – relationship with yourself. Because now I wake up and always know who I’m getting.

Today. Tomorrow. An hour from now.

It’s nice to finally have consistency without side effects.

NAC not working for you? Read on for other herbals you might like….

___________________________________

I love NAC, but please consult your doctor and research before taking!

I am not promoting this brand or anything else. Just sharing my story.

If you come up with a better brand you like, let me know in the comments.

 

My decision to take a daily pill to manage Bipolar II, wasn’t one I took lightly.

Initially, I’d been resistant to taking anything. I didn’t want pharmaceuticals. My history with them and crucible to come off them left me pretty messed up. And, for years, I didn’t take so much as Motrin. But, now, post breakup with the one-who-was-gonna-be-the-one, I was finally open to them. Only now – at my lowest low. So, I did my research. This one makes you fat, but has no other side effects. This one keeps you thin, but causes deadly rashes and balding. This one causes tremors. This one makes you commit self unaliving. (Did I sugarcoat that right for the snowflake population? Sure hope so.) In any case, I was finally doing this and I was doing it for me. Not a romantic partner. I was sick of living inside of this tortured marionette, puppeteered by my own imbalanced chemicals. I wanted to be happy. But did it have to come with such a high price tags? After going in circles, I finally took it back to the drawing board; I rewound the tape. Herbals had helped me quit opiates and benzos. (Ten years strong this fall, btw.) Maybe it was powerful enough to do the same here? So, I began a different type of research… An OTC one.

FINDNG NAC

NAC. N-acetyl cysteine.

Of all the remedies I have to cover, I’m so excited to write about this one.

So much, so that I don’t even know where to start.

This was a list topper on the “over the counter remedies” list:

NAC via the NOW brand.

And the effects… were damn near immediate.

But let’s backtrack for a moment to why I went OTC vs. RX…

WHY I TRIED NAC

So, what was wrong with pharamaceuticals? I dunno. I never took them. But I read reviews, testimonials, reports, and even joined an actual bipolar support group to hear real people talk about their experiences. (Highly suggest.) With Lamictal (a pharmaceutical), it allegedly takes weeks to work. NAC was overnight. With Lamictal, you stand to get hair loss. With NAC, your hair growth increases and hair fall decreases. With Lamictal (and Latuda – another option she asked me to try but I never did), neurological spasms can happen. NAC is actually used by neuro patients to calm tremors and the like. The list goes on and on about how – where meds fall short, NAC actually improves upon issues. So why isn’t it more known? Because they’re keeping their heads low to stay afloat. A while ago, people found out how beneficial this was, said it might benefit bipolar (and a host of other disorders) and Big Pharma got it taken off the market altogether for that. (They can’t take your money if you’re getting well on OTC pills) Now that it’s available again, they’re smart about it – saying, “Take it with your meds and it’ll help.’ THEY have to say that. I don’t. I can tell you right now that you have every right to try it all on its own. As a healthcare professional, I’ll also tell you it may not be enough and you may need meds as well. As a human woman who’s been on it now for a week and a half, I’ll also tell you – it may work alone.

Because it is for me.

WHAT IT IS

N Acetyl Csysteine is a “conditonally essential” amino acid which helps your body make the powerful antioxidant glutathione. As mentioned above, it (often) does everything from combatting OCD to minimizing neurological tremors to antiaging to … yes bipolar. And bipolar was listed as just one of the disorders that it can affect. After reading the reviews and testimonials (from actual users – like on support groups and reddit), I saw that some people fell asleep after taking a dose. In an effort to combat placebo effect, I decided to truly put it to the test and see if it could combat my worst sleep nights which were always followed by my worst mornings – the nights I train MMA. (Usually I have preworkout for Muay Thai or Jiu-Jitsu, come home full of adrenaline, toss and turn all night, and wake up cranky.) My whole day after that is just me, going through a fog, resenting life, obsessing about whatever latest thing’s on my mind, and seeing the world through a doom filter. (To be fair, that happens anyway often without training – so we can’t blame that.) A lot of my days are mostly that and waiting patiently for mania to hit so at least I can get high on my own supply for a while. But training nights are typically a sure trigger. So, I popped my NAC, lay down, and waited for the rotisserie tossing and turning to happen until 3 A.M.

Not this time.

HOW FIRST WEEK HAS GONE: PROS

On this rare night (two Thursdays ago – as I write this on a Sunday), I fell asleep within minutes of my head hitting the pillow. I woke up before the alarm, ready to go. And my day… was amazing. Okay, I thought. Perhaps it’s just a deep placebo effect. Or maybe I’m hitting my manic stride… But, as my week ensued – the lows remained at bay. And so did the excited highs. What sorcery was this? Suddenly, it was like I was “forgetting” to perform my unhealthy obsessive tendencies. They just seemed pointless and less appealing. Likewise, I wasn’t as worried about the other obsessive rituals I have that aren’t unhealthy – but will ruin my mental state/day if not performed. If I didn’t get to red light, training, or my full morning workout – it didn’t make me a resentful shrew all day.

It didn’t throw me off.

That whole feeling went deeper, though.

I suddenly felt very secure. Normally, I panic my way through a road trip, afraid I’ll miss a turn or something horrible will happen. Normally, if I’m in public, I’ll suddenly feel judged – like all eyes are on me in a negative way. (When this happens, I won’t wait in line for something I need or even go to the bathroom – because I feel like it’ll draw more attention.) If I don’t look perfect leaving the house, I’m anxious the whole time I’m out. (And can’t focus on anything we’re doing or talking about.) It sounds dumb, but that’s where I’ve been. But – just last weekend – I did a road trip without an issue. The hotel policy was that I couldn’t leave my dog in the room; but my new “we’ll figure it out” mentality helped me talk to the manager and get an excuse (because my dog’s awesome and quiet when I leave her in her cozy kennel). And, when I’m out now, I’ve been gifted a different filter. I call it “normal people confidence”. It’s not some big egoic show. It’s more of a ” I have just as much of a right to be here as everyone else” sort of feeling. This sudden security has allowed me to be more present too. Usually, I’m off in my own head, taking a magic carpet ride on my own insecurities and anxiously tuning back into the convo just in time to realize I haven’t heard a word you said. It’s awful. Now, I’m not worried about what’s happening next, how I look, or what you think of me. I’m just present in the interaction.

DO FEELING DISAPPEAR?

No. To be clear – I still have feelings.

I still feel sad or excited – but both have reduced in intensity. I don’t get overly amped about anything, but at the same time I don’t dread anything and I kinda “look forward” to everything I used to dread. I don’t mean that I’m psyched to do laundry or chores or errands. It’s just that I don’t really attach any miserable emotions to doing them anymore, so I don’t half azz anything or let it send me into a deflated depression. I remember once having to do a last minute cleaning for apartment inspection when I was going through a depressive episode. (They had corporate coming in to check for mold or whatever and I just had to tidy up some.) The thought of having to do an hour of work when my whole body felt like it had rigor mortis coursing through it caused a feeling that pain doesn’t describe. I sobbed the whole time I was scrubbing, sweeping, and vacuuming. Normal people don’t do that. Now, on the other side of the fence, happy and well adjusted, I see that. You don’t see it when it’s been your whole life, though. I just do what I need to do now. Bills. Groceries. Chores. Whatever. It’s like the resistance has been lifted.

There are so many things that I’m sure I’m missing from this “pros” list. But, here’s the thing. It’s like I whispered a wish into a single capsule I bought from Amazon – to be normal – then I went to bed with it and woke up with my wish granted. A different person. When that happens, there are so many little things that “normal people” take for granted that now feel so exciting to see in myself. One example is how – when I used to be tired, injured, sick, or somehow vulnerable – it would trigger a depressive, insecure episode where I’d push everyone away. I’d hide. Cancel plans. Isolate. Leave work early. Now, when I’m tired, hurt, or insecure, it doesn’t alter my motivation to do anything differently than I had intended for that day. The whole world doesn’t come to an end. It’s like I now know how to be comfortable (and sill function like a responsible adult) while being uncomfortable. Unheard of for me.

ALCOHOL

And, speaking of comfort – this next one may be the biggest: alcohol.

Now, I love my wine. I love the industry, the growing, the fermentation, the barrel room, the lingo, and the culture. I will never not love wine. However, with bipolar, you have to moderate. And I did moderate – but I only was moderating my days. By the time the weekend came, sometimes I’d overdo it. More than I should imbibe, but I’d justify that it was concentrated into one or two days. Add into that the insecurity of a relationship where you both have conditions to be managed, and it was just one weekly bomb going off after the other. Alcohol, in excess, can absolutely set off dysregulation in disorders and episodes for bipolar patients. Even after my breakup, long days of drinking with the girls were followed by miserable Mondays spent wondering “why do I feel this way?” and pretending not to know the answer because I had no intention of changing. As soon as I started NAC, something changed. I still enjoyed the taste of wine and the light effects of it – but I didn’t feel like drinking as much as I usually do. The void to fill was gone, so I was reaching for fewer sips. The obsessive FOMO of wanting a full flight to “try everything” was lifted. I was happy with a single glass and an early evening.

Situational awareness is better. Listening comprehension is better.

Outlook is better. Habits are better.

Everything is better.

Well, almost.

_____________________

Keep reading for the “cons” to taking NAC….

 

“I never know who I’m going to get with you – the manic or the depressed one.”

The words stung when I heard them.

And it’s not because I didn’t already know.

They were words from my then boyfriend as we sat on his porch, during one of our final fights. I, hugging my knees to my chest. He, with his pipe. Both gazing forward, calmly, at the sun setting through the blooming trees of an early spring. It’s good we’re planting the root stocks late, I thought. It’s sure to get cold again. Blessing in disguise we can’t plant yet. My mind was wandering to escape; because I already knew… it was about to turn into an argument. It always did. But, this time, he gave me pause with “I never know who I’m going to get.” It’s not because I wasn’t aware it was true. I was. But to hear someone – so close – echo the same thing I’d said out loud about myself to my closest people in the past… hit differently. It hurt because I’d known for years I needed help. I just never bothered because I didn’t want to take a daily medication. To be fair, I didn’t have to because I’m mostly only ever single – occasionally dating people who are avoidant attachment types. (AKA people who never want to get close enough to see the “real” you, so you can hide your depressive episodes well.)

So, it was easy.

For a while at least.

(Gotta love when your friends catch you in a candid emo moment…)

I was miserable, but at least the lens of the world around me was perpetually getting “my good side”. I was living a lie. But it was a lie I was used to. All lies, catch up to you, though. I should have known. I’d always told myself no one was coming for me. No one would want to get that close. Not to me. But the nonexistent person, one day, found me. Against all odds. And when he did, I had nowhere to run.  Now, on a porch at sunset, faced with a man that I loved (tortured with unresolved trauma and blindspots to work on himself – so, no, this won’t be a “how we got back together” story – sorry), I was hearing it out loud. My mindset at the time was the nanny boo boo thing of, “Well you’re not fixing your stuff, so I won’t fix mine”. (Real evolved of me, I know…) But fast forward from his porch to my apartment, four weeks later and fifteen minutes north of that conversation… and I was mid depressive episode. I was alone. I was out of my body. Sobs were coming in waves. I had stowed all my distractions. No social media. No TV. Just sat on my terrace, trying to connect with the beautiful day we were having – and failing. Mid 70’s. Sunny. Birdsong. Blue skies. Soft breeze. And I could feel none of it. Nothing. I’d just had a beautiful weekend. And now this. My brain betraying me with a beautiful weekend, followed by faceless, nameless cognitive hauntings. I closed my eyes, pained by the fact that I was being deprived of the joy everyone else could derive from this day. I began to meditate. Focusing on the breath.

And then, as I observed the interworkings of my brain – it hit me.

I was sitting here, miserable, and not knowing why. And the second I took some space, it was like I was watching my brain play the “matching game”. It moved toward him and my part in our failed relationship. Then it moved toward work and how I wasn’t moving forward in my career. Then it moved toward jiu-jitsu and how I’ve been struggling post injury to train as much as I should. NONE of these things were “it”. None of them were the feeling. The feeling preceded these thoughts. I was just trying to find anything around me to be the cause. They weren’t. The feeling was just there. For no good reason. But when it comes, it goes on like a chemical filter. Once it’s on, all the good gets filtered out, and I can just see who’s doing me dirty, what’s going wrong, what to panic about next, what to dread. It’s not that none of the concerns are wrong in and of themselves. It’s just that with bipolar, you can either see things too optimistically (like I often do with mania) or too negatively (like I was doing right now in this depressive episode). And that’s what’s not reality. The inflated concentration of either is what makes you see things not as they are.

There’s a balance to be struck.

I realized, in this space, that every low I had had been lying to me.

Each depressive filter spurred a reason to reach for some new issue – something to explain said feeling. I’m feeling anxious because you said something hurtful several months ago. I’m upset because a patient came late to their appointment (even though I was fine with it yesterday). I’m upset at traffic. All along, I was subconsciously ascribing a random reason to the deficit that dwelled within. (Also, when you’re activated already, everything’s an excuse to blow up.) I was living my whole life through this filter of suspicion, doom, and general negativity. When that’s where you live, anything of concern that you bring up to friends, colleagues, and partners loses its importance – because you’re always bringing it up. Always the Karen. Always on that energy level. It’s horrible. And the mania is the same – just in a different detrimental direction, where you spend too much money or say the wrong things or train for five hours and injure yourself. And you don’t have control of the switch. You don’t ever know who you’re gonna get. And neither does the man sitting next to you, pulling a long drag of cherry cavendish off a Gandalf pipe. Long pauses between words. Treading carefully – because you both have big bombs at the end of those long fuses. Right before a blowout fight that will make for the rock bottom and push you need.

From his porch, to my terrace meditation, I realized it. I needed help. I had been avoiding taking medication to solve this ongoing internal crisis due to a torrid past with bills. I had been afraid. But, now, I was more afraid to ever hear those words again – not just from the next man to walk into my life – but my own mind. I couldn’t bear it. Not another minute without taking some sort of action. Without at least proving to myself I was making a move. Suddenly, I felt something different in that willingness. Hope. Daylight making its way through the prison bars of my internal incarceration. My eyes opened. My skin responded to the soft breeze. My vagus nerve activated momentarily.

“It’s time.”

Now it wasn’t his voice. It was mine.

____________________________

Continue my journey and how I found my perfect intervention for bipolar here.

 

 

During my search for natural ways to mitigate bipolar, I found a few things.

Amongst them was Rhodiola Rosea.

Having suffered a past with dependency, I tried not to lean on it – saving it for when I’m heading toward the low end of the spectrum. That said, it seems to work. It definitely puts a little pep in your step. That’s why I offer it as an alternative to those who can’t handle their caffeine (jittery joe or clean buzz matcha alike). This herb just gives me the little lift I need to make my way through the day after I’ve hit a bit of a mental wall. However, it comes with a caveat. Rhodiola, they claim, is probably a better bet for those who suffer mostly depressive episodes.

Like… yours truly.

(Not me, debating popping one now to finish all this work I have to do before bed…)

If you tend to lean manic, this might trigger that.

I can’t speak to that because (all evidence to the contrary), I tend to lean a bit more Eeyore and a little less Tigger. It sucks because, the way my polarity presents, the “depressed” end of the pole isn’t just sadness. It’s this very physical feeling – like a cat digging its claws into my soft flesh and slowly crawling up my spine until it reaches my shoulders. It’s this “leave me alone” irritability that makes me feel like I’m not safe in my own body. When I’m there, I don’t want to connect with friends or significant others. It also makes me not want to do my job. (I work in physical therapy where I have to touch people all day long.) And there’s no part of me that wants to touch a stranger to mobilize them. I didn’t even want to touch my boyfriend when it would happen.

I won’t say Rhodiola solved all that.

 

 

But it did help lift me a bit out of that funk so I could make it through my workday.

I got the ones from a brand called Bronson – but it may very well be one of those things where “any brand’ll do”. (I’m open to your testimonials.) That said, this one seemed to work well at getting me back on track and past the triggering slump that always sends me down the bipolar-pole. However, consider that A.) that’s just my experience. B.) I timed my taking of it for when I was hitting that wall. C.) I had other variables in my life that may call into question the efficacy. D.) I still felt “disconnected”, just more energized and clear to work. And E.) It didn’t manage both ends of the poles or my general outlook – just lifted me enough to go on with my day. It wasn’t bad. It’s actually a nice second-wind-er if you’ve got a long day and tend to hit the bottom emotionally halfway through it like me. But it just wasn’t quite enough. I needed something more – to handle that mania as well. And I still wasn’t willing to go on pharmaceuticals. (Mind you, there’s nothing wrong with meds – but for the options I was offered, I wasn’t wiling to risk those side effects.) So, my quest continued for the perfect herbal. The review on Rhodiola is going to be short because I only took it for so long before my prayers were answered. The equivalent of a pharmaceutical in nautral, herbal form:

NAC. N-acetyl Cysteine.

Keep reading for what finally made me decide on a daily intervention for bipolar.

It’s 2:00 P.M.

The post lunch sugar crash has me in its clutches.

I know coffee (while delicious) may facilitate a hypomanic episode.

But I’ve gotta have something in order to survive the rest of this day, ya know?

(Throwback to a green tea fueled PTA school study sesh in two-thousand-something-with-a-teen in it….)

This is when I reach for my matcha…

I recently reviewed this on my weight loss site because it’s (you guessed it) also great for weight loss. But it happens to have the dual effect of regulating highs and lows as well. (For me at least.)  And keep in mind, this is just my review. If you read up on caffeine of any kind, you’ll be told that it’ll start an episode. However, what I’ve come to learn is that body awareness and moderation are hella helpful when it comes to finding a balance. Green tea is a good compromise because it’s a nice clean buzz without the jittery craziness that comes with coffee. Also, you can dilute it to ensure less ingestion of caffeine and avert said episode. Maybe it’s because I’ve been drinking coffee for so long that green tea is like it’s mellow little sister that I can tolerate. Maybe it just affects me differently.

Or – maybe it’s because the advice to avoid it is too generic.

Seeing if there was any “science” to why my late morning matcha was so helpful without activating mania, I finally found it. Yes, caffeine can set off mania or hypomania when all things are equal. However, if you’re entering a depressive episode, it can actually help stave it off. What many of the conclusions we see drawn from research try to do is generalize information. You can’t generalize with bipolar. The name says it all. Sometimes you’re at one end. Sometimes you’re at the other. Because I’ve spend a decade now, tuning into my body to see what it needs when, I’ve naturally come to understand when it’s right to swill some green tea and when it’s going to take me on some horrible ride.

This is the stuff I drink:

After trying *so* many powders that don’t mix well and clump up, I love U Matcha.

There’s no cracky high. There’s no sudden come down. This emerald potion comes on in nice, tranquil waves of wakefulness. Each sip drives you into more awareness than the last. But instead of knocking things over and tripping over your words, you feel even keeled. Calm but “on it”. Ready to tackle your tasks with alacrity. This one’s my fave because it comes in packets that are easy to add on the go. It mixes well. You don’t overdo the serving. It’s all I buy now. Caveats are: don’t take it after noon (I don’t sleep if I take it too late), don’t do more than one (it might set off an episode – it def does for me), and don’t take it if you’re already doing okay – right in the middle. (Difficult for some of us – hi, I’m some of us – when we’re used to trying to see if “feeling awesome” can be improved upon further.) Try to take advantage of those days when you feel “awake enough” and don’t reach for caffeine at all. It can be easy to lapse into our old habits, but it’s always best to avoid something that might potentially set us off – if we can. That said, it’s better to have this stuff on hand versus a cup of jittery joe that’s almost certain to send us up the pole o’ mania.

Blood pressure issues and can’t have caffeine?

There’s an herb for that!

I’ve just begun new one for midday fade: Rhodiola Rosea.

Keep reading for my own, personal, yours-may-not-be-the-same experience!

 

As our first stop on the bipolar express, we’ll start with… exercise.

We’ve just begun our journey into non-pharmaceutical interventions and this one has become an absolute necessity for me. Every day, it’s a non-negotiable. Whether it’s an hour or fifteen minutes, I resolve to work out before work. Why? Well, it’s the one thing that’s turned me from a non-functional, languishing hermit to a contributing member of society – my morning (and sometimes evening) workouts. I generally start “in the red” every morning. Already on the low side of the poles. Battery life on low. In need of a USB plug before I can move my body. And, before starting this daily routine of working out, I was the type who’d get so low, I’d give into this feeling, call out of work, and turn to drugs (prescribed, not street, but also not taken as directed) to solve my problem. (For the day.) Now, with a daily workout to fill my internal prescription of serotonin tablets, it’s like a 180 for my morning.

Oh, look… It’s me, working out during a shoulder dislocation:

(Rain or shine, beaches…)

Anyway, this works on two levels:

Not only does a morning workout get you out of your head, into your body, and set the tone for the day; it also does something very important: it gives you the subconscious message that *you* think you’re worth it. This is so underrated. The promises we keep or don’t keep to ourselves absolutely matter. After all, if we don’t think we’re worth taking care of our own emotions and bodies – why would anyone else? These thoughts don’t often arise fully formulated, but they just become ingrained beliefs. Filters through which we see ourselves and the world. Worse, it becomes a self fulfilling prophecy because we treat those around us the same way – showing up late, cancelling plans, and so on. What happens then is those people get upset with us. Now we feel even more poorly, driving us deeper into depression, and the cycle starts anew. When we actually start setting a spiritual and physical discipline for ourselves, though, that becomes a habit that carries over into all areas of our lives. It also boosts our self worth enough that we may not feel the need to binge eat or spend too much money or feel like cry for hours on end.

The only caveat?

All the excuses you’re already coming up with to not workout each morning. The gym is too far. It costs money. You can’t run outside because it’s too dark in the morning. Or cold. Or unsafe. That’s why I got myself a Live Strong elliptical back in 2012. Now, I’m not one to try to market stuff to people – unless I believe in the product. So, you’ll see a ton of marketing from me because I’ve tried a lot of stuff, discarded a lot of stuff, and stuck with what works. What I love about this thing is A.) I can use it whenever, B.) I don’t have to drive to the gym, C.) there are no recurring dues, D.) I don’t have to dress a certain way to work out, E.) I can sing out loud to my music which I work out, and F.) did you *see* that year? I’ve literally had this thing a decade and it’s still going strong. Simply put, Live Strong is a good and sturdy brand to go with.

I’m not even sure if they still make my model anymore, but here it is:

 

Okay, okay – so there’s one more caveat.

A movement induced mental lift is awesome but… it often doesn’t last.

Indeed, the effects of that “runner’s high” (or lifter’s or swimmer’s – we’re inclusive here) are too short lived. They only endure for a few hours. This is great for your first half of the workday. But after that, right around the time your post lunch blood sugar crash is kicking in, you’re kinda screwed. Many bipolar patients try to avoid coffee in general to wake back up. (I myself struggle because it can send me into mania) Or some other people just have high blood pressure, making it smart to avoid coffee too. But, when I’m desperate, it’s easy to reach for caffeine. The issue for me has always been the accompanying “jitters” and tendency to turn into hypomania. But if you don’t take anything, you may end up on the other end of the pole – crashing hard and unable to connect with reality or the people who live in it.

Keep reading to see how I lift myself back up without entering hypomania.

Recently, I was diagnosed with bipolar II.

While the diagnosis came only a couple months ago, the knowledge of it was far from recent. It’s been clear from very early on that all the women in my family suffer from this issue. Since a very young age, I recall my mom oscillating between screaming and crying at my dad – to Harvey Two Face style turning around and answering the phone in her Stepford Wife persona. (The ongoing joke my sister and I had was handing her the nearest trophy shaped object like she’d just won an Oscar for her acting skills.) But enough about them. Back to me – the only one brave enough to reach out for help, get the diagnosis, and ultimately get the help I needed.

Now, it’s not my place to diagnose. But, I’m honestly starting to wonder how much those who are in the place to diagnose – actually know enough to do so. Let me explain. I was at my wit’s end two weeks ago and willing to try *something*. (I’ll delve into the sordid details later, but for now you get the short n’ skinny.) A couple weeks back and about a month out of a breakup, I was (in part) blaming my bipolar that I was unwilling to take medication for, for the downfall of our relationship. Emphasis on “in part”. He wasn’t an angel either (and hid a lot of his own diagnoses from me, bipolar included, while blaming anything I did that he didn’t like on my “bipolar disorder”.)

But I kept wondering, “What if I’d just tried *something*?”

Once we were done, my first thought was, “Well, but now I don’t have anyone to be normal for, so it doesn’t matter”. (Insert clown emoji, I know…) But as that manic and euphoric feeling of newfound freedom subsided, I came to find that even post split, without any human target for my manic or depressive episodes, I found the same feelings boomeranging back onto myself. Obsessing. Depression. Avoiding life. No big surprise. I honestly expected the mania would end. It always does. I’m aware enough to know when a wave is coming – I just hadn’t been brave enough to face it with any real weaponry. I also didn’t realize the extent to which my brain would rally against me. When there’s no one to turn to or on, you either turn to or on yourself. The problem with that is that – people like us don’t get normal sad or excited. We go all the way down into padded room territory – or all the way up into max-out-the-credit-cards territory.

After the breakup, those poles got farther apart.

The darkness got darker.

The mania scarier.

Finally, I started researching options.

There were heaps of them, mind you. But, because I’m vain and unwilling to gain weight, Lamictal and Latuda were the only ones I was willing to consider and that my psych lady was willing to offer. Lamictal seemed awesome. Great reviews. No weight gain. Increased energy. Actual testimonials and reviews from users were amazing. (Latuda, less so.) Some downsides I read? Tardive dyskinesia. Tremors. And this deadly rash that is rare, but requires hospitalization. I was nearly ready to try it anyway, but then I saw another side effect: hair loss. (Vanity: activated.) That’s a nuclear nope for me. (My ex had lost his hair to meds and I had the same problem back when I was on them. Mine grew back – but never was quite as lustrous or shiny ever again – and his never grew back at all.) I had trusted her to tell me all the possible side effects. She “missed” this one (along with many others) because she was hellbent on prescribing something to me.

So, being a bio grad, I ran an experiment.

I threw the question about hair loss in my bipolar group on Facebook (ya know – actual live people who are taking the drugs) and was nearly immediately greeted with replies like, “Oh THAT’S why my hair’s falling out! I had no idea it was a side effect, but now it makes sense.” (Honestly, if you’re looking to find out the genuine side effects of something, go ahead and join you a support group.) You can quote me statistically significant research (that the drug company funded) all day long. But 8 out of 10 women I ask say they lost hair after taking Lamictal, guess which one I’m listening to? I even asked specifically to see which women were only taking said med – no others (because a dual effect may make for more hair fall where, with just one med it’s less noticeable). Verdict? Even on singular scripts – those follicles be dropping like bodies in a Judo class, survey says.

Still desperate, but not enough to suffer death rashes or being bald, I came full circle. Full circle to the route I took when I was first getting clean from dependency and addiction to opiates and benzos (half the reason I avoided meds for bipolar in the first place – didn’t wanna be dependent on something) and looking for self calming remedies to help me sleep. I went back to the drawing board and sought out options specifically that were being used, over the counter, for the treatment of bipolar.

When I threw the idea into the group, some were on board.

With others, the big pharma brainwashing was clear.

I had to laugh when I heard: “If alternative medicine worked, it would just be what doctors gave you”. It continues to amaze me how some still haven’t learned the concept of big pharma and how the entire profession would collapse if OTC options and education on lifestyle changes made people able to get better without a massive monthly copay for meds and office visits and labs and…. BOTTOM LINE: There’s no money in DIY fixes. Mind you, I’m not saying it’s a perma fix. I’m not saying medicine is a bad option. And I’m not saying it’s for everybody. I’m just saying that holistic options can and do work for some. That’s why (if you keep reading), you can see my journey with natural options. I’m sharing it because some people like myself don’t like their prescription options. I’m also sharing it because some people don’t even have that option. I’ve heard sufferers talk about having had heart attacks, neurological events, hospital admissions, and ultimately being told by doctors that they can’t take medication ever again, as it may be fatal. (Another thing the “alternative medicine doesn’t work, so just take drugs” group fails to consider.)

Thing is, about ten years ago (before I even realized this was bipolar), I began my journey. I just didn’t know what condition I was addressing. Chocking it up to some manifestation of addiction, I renovated my life dramatically. Drug free. Using the tools of those who’d come before me, I was able to 180 (kinda) for the better through routine and new habits. Keep in mind, this is just my journey and I haven’t always adhered to it perfectly. When I did, though, life got so much easier and my episodes felt far less intense or long. Also, worthy of note: before I began changing my “routine”, I was an absolute mess. No joke. Think of the creature from LOTR in the cave, crouched over a carp he’s just caught and eating it raw. Something like that, but hiding it well. I’d show up to work late (or not at all), spend the entire weekend and free time in bed, wear the same things for days, and lived in squalor. I wouldn’t shower unless I had somewhere to go. I wouldn’t change bedsheets. My poor dog skipped so many grooming sessions. I just hid it very, very well. Best designer clothes. Makeup always on point. Hair done. But each night I’d come home to an apartment that looked like the grand finale of a Hoarder’s season when they save the worst episode for last.

Me behind closed doors was a different story from what y’all saw.

I never invited anyone over.

I was too embarrassed about how I lived. If you could call it living.

After renovating my life (in layers, by trial and error) with habit changes, I now have a career in PT where I’m a top requested clinician, I train in MMA five days a week (won two gold medals in jiu-jitsu last year!), I workout every morning, I teach yoga and write about health and wellness as side jobs, and am pursuing new hobbies and interests all the while. (And yes, my dog lives like a pampered princess.) I’m not saying that to say “I found the cure!”. (I mean, if you keep reading I have found it for me – but yours may be different. That’s why this series will be so long.) I’m definitely not always on my A game. In fact, after this past relationship, I realize that I struggle to navigate managing another person’s needs while keeping my own “routine”. That said, below what I’ve outlined are just some of the things I’ve done that have helped me go from floundering to “doing pretty okay but still need the help of professionals and a support system”. I just figured I’d share what’s gotten me from non-functional to better-than-just-functional even without meds. Remember, my journey is MINE. I’m not offering official medical advice. I’m not saying don’t take meds. I’m just saying, if something resonates, cool. And if you haven’t tried it already, maybe consult your doc before trying it a first time. Because maybe it will help even just one of you. I know it’s helped serve as reinforcement just by writing it down. So, what were these routines and habits? Well, some are things I’ve been doing for years now (as mentioned). Others, I’ve just begun since my diagnosis. But we’re about to take a tour, full of stops that may help stop your swings – or at least stave them off.

And the first stop is… daily exercise.

The rule? Find something sustainable. Something you’ll do everyday.

Not some crazy hobby like flying yoga.

(Not me doing flying yoga. Probably during a manic spell…)

Okay… I may deviate and do fun novel stuff here and there.

But my daily routine looks a lot different. Simpler.

Read on to see how my daily dose of blood pumping keeps me sane…

When I started red light therapy, it wasn’t for mental health.

It wasn’t for anything other than vanity, really.

I’d been seeing ads for it for a a while – reading that it was good for skin, collagen production, and attacking signs of aging on all fronts. It had some other settings as well, but my only aim was the impossible goal of looking young forever. Skeptical, as I tend to be, though, I took a look at some reviews. (Thank you, verified Amazon buyers.) Granted, I get that some of this written feedback can be paid and faked. (I especially love when someone gives a bad review for something and then comes back after the company “contacts them” whistling a different tune.) But the amount of positive commentary doesn’t lie. Plus, when all the reviews are raving about a type of product on both Youtube and through Amazon, I’m a bit less skeptical and a bit more “add to cart”. So, the first form of red light therapy I purchased was back in 2019 – and it was a wand.

This guy:

Ah, hello old friend.

Yes, the Daily Care Luma was fantastic for what I wanted at the time.

Still at the mid thirty mark, I was hanging onto the final embers of my youthful collagen made naturally by my body. (I’m being dramatic, but also not really. Big changes happen after 35. Each year feels like the next assailant you have to Judo off as you John Wick them away with collagen supplements and fairy wands.) But, this wand did give me the little boost I needed, especially when applied with some vitamin C serum. Add in the facial massage element, and I was getting the best of both worlds. Caveat? It was a bit time intensive and you have to do work the whole 20 minutes you’re rubbing it onto your mug. It’s not a nice relaxing treatment like when you go to a spa. But the other side of this coin was (what we’re all here for) the internal wellness benefits of it. Nights I did this before bed, I’d feel a peaceful calm come over me. No urge to mindlessly scroll or snack or ruminate on negative thoughts.

Cut to a montage of me actually looking up the research on this two tabs over on my phone and, indeed, there is evidence. All the research I have read showed this is the same form of light often utilized in seasonal affective disorder patients to balance mood and improve depressive episodes. It can help even out emotions. (Not to mention, it also helps heal tissue after injuries. Check my ACVY.com site for more on that soon…) And guess what? When we’re content, we tend not to self sabotage with compulsive behavior. And I loved the idea of all of that. But I just felt like I could somehow outsource all that work without having to go to a spa.

(I mean, really – AI is taking over and a robot still can’t red light my mug for me?)

So, I bought the mask.

Click here to read how the mask compares….